The Doomed Rise of ZIR
by InvaderWho
Summary: When a badly damaged SIR Unit appears at Zim's front door, Zim eagerly tries to fix it. He soon regrets it. ZIR, isn't just a defective robot like GIR is. He's a psychopathic killer... Rated T for dark themes and violence.
1. Just beneath the surface

_Author's note: _**O.C belonging to me include 'ZIR' and 'Hatch' – however these are only introduced and featured in this particular story and are not intended to be reoccurring O.C. This is also my first Invader Zim Fanfic, but I've spent a lot of time editing and re-editing it, so be nice =)**

**_And, _I believe strongly in not adding Romance unless it is in cannon – so no romance in Invader Zim from me!**

_Disclaimer: _**I do not own Invader Zim.**

* * *

_Just beneath the surface_

Snuggled up against the sofa, GIR slept, his tumb tucked in his mouth. He tossed and turned, dreaming quietly.

"W-w-waffles…" the robot murmured, snuffling, and turned over again.

He still remembered what Zim had said to him once. "_SIR units don't need sleep, GIR. And they certainly don't 'dream'! How many times do I have to tell you that?_"

But of course, you couldn't tell GIR anything.

However that night, as he tossed and turned, he wished he'd listened to Zim. Normally he just dreamt about waffles turning into weenies, squirrels teaching him to tap dance and piggies falling from the sky. But that night, he dreamt about a memory.

An old, terrifying memory.

GIR remembered being strapped down to a table, a pair of dark glowing eyes leering down at him. He remembered a knife so sharp it could cut through metal, being forced down on him…

- And he was screaming.

* * *

"Welcome to Planet Dirt" the sign displayed, as a ship zoomed past on its way towards the planet. The latest recruits for the Irken janitorial squad looked out over their new workplace, trying in vain to hide their dismay.

"It stinks and we're not even down there yet," muttered one small Irken.

"SILENCE" Bellowed their boss. The Irken who had spoken shrank back, as a menacing finger was pointed towards him. "YOU. State your name."

"Janitor Hatch, sir."

This sent a wave of sniggers from the other Irkens on the squad. Hatch glared at them. Just wait. One day he'd pass the military test, and then they wouldn't be laughing. He could see it now: Invader Hatch. That would show them. That would show them ALL…!

But his thought bubble was burst when the boss himself sneered at his name.

"Well, Hatch, you've just earned yourself three months worth of extra shifts, haven't you? And if you don't like it, you'll be fired without question." He addressed the rest of the squad. "And let that be a lesson to the lot of you. Now quit complaining and prepare to work for your Empire!"

* * *

Hatch had been working for hours now. This planet was worse than he'd ever thought. It was a giant junk yard of stench – everything the Irken Empire no longer had use for was kept here – from broken-down vehicles and ships and rusted scrap metal, to mountains of rubbish and raw sewage.

And there were, quite literally, mountains of it. Not even centuries of work could shift the ever growing pile of filth that accumulated there everyday – it was, of course, called 'Planet Dirt' for a reason.

Hatch stopped working for a moment, wiping the sweat off his brow. He watched as an exhausted Irken worker operated big heavy machinery, shifting piles of junk with the massive metal scoop attached to the end of it.

Suddenly another Irken worker came running up to the machine, banging on the side of it.

"Hey. Boss says we get a break. You hear that? A break, can you believe it?"

The worker operating the machine spun around, stunned.

"What?!" He exclaimed. His attention left the machine for a moment – and in that split second, Hatch witnessed everything all fall into chaos.

Not concentrating, the machine worker let the lever slip out of his hand, the stick jutting forward violently. The arm of the machine with the scoop attached swung dangerously, colliding with a nearby mountain of rubbish with a deafening crunch.

Both of the workers screamed, scrabbling to get away, as the whole colossal pile became an avalanche.

When the dirt and debris finally settled, Hatch could see that both workers had escaped, unharmed. But the machine worker was aghast with dismay.

"NOOOO. THE MACHINE – IT'S RUINED! HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO EXPLAIN THIS?"

The machine worker marched up to the cascaded pile and kicked it in frustration. Wrong move. There was a scream, as a particularly heavy piece of junk wobbled, falling, falling…It landed on the Irken worker with a sickening crunch. Seconds later, his friend made a run for it, horrified.

Hatch, having observed the whole thing with only mild concern, now glanced about him. No one was around. Cautious and curious, the young Irken approached the mess left by the avalanche.

There was something there amongst the rubble. Something very familiar.

Hatch crept in closer. Face-down and half-submerged in the mass of junk, was a battered – but unmistakable – shape of a robot.

"A SIR unit," marvelled Hatch. He considered it for a moment, thoughtful. "I've always wanted one of those...too bad I failed the military test." He sighed.

Then he noticed a splintered piece of junk wedged into the side of its head. Without thinking, he pulled it out.

Immediately, the damaged unit sprung to life, as if suddenly activated. The SIR struggled its way out from underneath the rubble, fixing its sight on Janitor Hatch. Disturbingly, its eyes were still black and fairly lifeless, although they flickered to red every few seconds – like something running on low battery.

The young Irken stepped away, both awed and slightly nervous. The SIR robot seemed to tower above him, as it stood up on top of the rubble. Its antenna was crooked, deformed into a jagged 'Z' shape...and its stitched up mouth hung down on one side. Smears of dirt and rust covered its entire metal frame, due to several years of disuse. An ambiguous Irken symbol could only just be seen engraved on its head under the layers of grime that smothered it.

"Unit is not fully functional," the robot reported. It fizzled and cracked as it spoke. "Severe...d-damage...caused to system...."

The SIR unit seemed to struggle to get itself to function, its joints beginning to give way. Slowly it struggled to its feet again.

"Emergency power systems...operational. Will f-find means necessary to temporarily repair systems and...l-leave this incompetent planet!"

The SIR glared down at Irken Hatch, pointing at him.

"YOU will help me find the resources I need…"

Hatch looked up at the damaged robot. "What? Help you? Irken Janitor or not, I do not take orders from a SIR unit!"

Suddenly, the unit switched into full duty mode. Its eyes narrowed, managing to flicker onto red. An array of weapons sprung from its head, aimed directly at Hatch.

"You do now," the SIR unit told him, its mouth becoming a twisted grin, "you do now…"

* * *

_

* * *

_


	2. Broken like a noodle

_Broken like a noodle_

Back on Earth, GIR was running manically about the house.

"EEEEheeeeeheehee!" the robot squealed, springing rapidly from limb to limb – occasionally resulting in an unintentional cartwheel or two. He shrieked again.

Unable to concentrate, Irken Invader Zim emerged from his base, storming into the room.

"GIR! Stop fooling around. How am I supposed to work on my next INGENIOUS plan with all this... madness?"

"MADNESS?" Zim's defective SIR unit shrieked, in a sing-song voice. "MAAAAAAADNESSSS? ...MADNESSSSS..."

GIR turned another cartwheel, landing on his head. He giggled hysterically.

Zim put a weary hand to his head. Sometimes he wondered why he even bothered.

"I grow so tired of your insanity, GIR. Unfortunately, there seems no possible way of fixing the problem…" The Irken invader shuddered, remembering only too well the time when he'd tried to fix GIR's behavioural glitches. The results had been disastrous.

"Yippeee!"

GIR, who had been balancing on his head, landed flat on his face.

Just then, the door bell rang.

"That would be the pizza," GIR chirped, springing to his feet and leaping into his Doggy costume.

"You ordered pizza, _again?_"

From within his doggy disguise, GIR grinned at Zim happily. "It's nice," he exclaimed. "An' it got double cheese!"

The green dog trotted over to the door, reaching up and opening it. But it wasn't the pizza delivery guy.

It was the damaged SIR unit from Planet Dirt. As soon as the door opened, its eyes flickered out and the robot collapsed. GIR watched it as it fell over the threshold.

"Oooo…" GIR gave the other robot a prod. Lifeless.

"What is it now?..." Zim shoved his useless minion out of the way to take a look. His surprised red eyes fell upon the motionless SIR unit in the doorway. "Oh. What's that doing there?"

"Aw. He looks funny. Can we keep 'im? Huh? HUH?"

"No GIR. This one's broken. Look – see?" Zim gave the SIR a firm kick. Still nothing.

"Hmm…" Zim mused, looking down at it. "Hmmm, hmmmm, Hmmm…! No. WAIT. Yes. YES."

Eagerly he snatched up the SIR bot, running back down to his base with it. Clueless, GIR bounced after him gleefully.

* * *

Back in Zim's underground Lab, the Irken invader carried the SIR unit over to an array of equipment. He was still clearly excited by the discovery of it.

"GIR, do you release what this means?" Zim didn't wait for an answer, "it means the Tallest must have sent me this extra SIR unit to aid me in our mission! A more powerful, more…"

Zim tailed off, looking at GIR, who having taken off his dog suit was repeatedly banging his head against a wall.

Zim continued, "a…more reliable…not being-so-funny model…And – GIR GET AWAY FROM THE COMPUTER!"

GIR had begun randomly pressing buttons and levers on the computer to his heart's content. At Zim's words he stopped, proceeding to giggle instead.

Zim busied himself, beginning to connect up wires to the damaged robot. "If I can fix this SIR unit…"

"Aw, look," GIR interrupted sadly, "He's broken!"

"Yes, GIR. As I was saying, if I can –"

"– But he's broken!"

"Yes, but if I can just –"

"He's broken like a noodle."

Zim decided to ignore this last comment and carry on. "If I can just find some way of fixing this unit, I will not just have one robot minion to do my bidding…I WILL HAVE TWO! ZIIIM WILL BE UNSTOPPABLE!"

He started to laugh. The laugh slowly growing, until Zim was cackling uncontrollably, loudly.

And then he stopped suddenly. The Irken soldier held his mouth, disgusted.

"ARRRAGH. What is that horrible STENCH?"

GIR pointed at the broken SIR robot. "He smells like Dookie."

Without hesitation, Zim marched over and prized open the SIR bot's head. A mass of gooey sludge gushed out like a giant wave, washing over both Zim and GIR – and the entire base.

…From outside the house, Zim's screams from within could be heard, with GIR's gleeful laughter in the background.

"ARRRRRRAHHHHHGHHH," screamed Zim's voice from inside, "ARRRRRAHHHHHGHHH - GET IT AWAY FROM ME IT STINKS!"

* * *

* * *


	3. ZIR, reporting for Duty

_ZIR, reporting for Duty_

In the cafeteria at 'Skool', Dib plonked his tray down next to his sister's.

"Zim's planning something again, I just know it!"

Gaz, who was more than used to this by now, grunted without looking up from her Game slave 2.

"He hasn't been in school at all today – I bet he's working on another scheme…I tried using the spy cameras I installed in his house to figure out what he's doing – but the ones in his base are smeared with some sort of…substance. Do you think he's worked out where they are and tried to sabotage them?"

"Dib," Gaz growled, "If you make me loose this level, I shall personally see to it that your tongue is removed PERMANENTLY and that you never speak again."

But her brother was too caught up in his own thoughts. "Who knows what he's up to this time!…I'm going to have to wait until after school and see if I can sneak into his house again. IF he hasn't strengthened the defences yet…"

Without a word, Gaz huffily walked away, fingers still jabbing away at the game consol in her hands. Deciding to ignore him instead of ripping out his tongue was probably best for now, as she was preoccupied with her game. But it was still very tempting…

* * *

"Whatcha doin? Whatcha doin? Whaaatcha dooooin?" Asked GIR, bouncing around Zim as he worked.

The base had been cleared of the sludge by now – only a few splatters oozing out from the corners of work-surfaces remained. But Zim wore a mask as he worked all the same, still paranoid about the stink coming from the damaged SIR unit.

"GIR," said Zim through his mask, "You're too distracting. Go up stairs and don't come back down until I have finished!"

GIR had been bouncing about all over the place, but at Zim's words he stopped suddenly.

"Yes sir!" The robot said, his eyes glowing deep red as he saluted. Then they became wide and blue once more, as he added with a shriek: "Okie dokie!" and zoomed away out of sight.

Time passed. Zim continued to work. Sparks flew as he held a welding torch over the SIR unit, the glints of light reflecting in his protective goggles. Day slowly turned into night – Zim wiped the moisture of his brow, but carried on. He cut and sawed and hammered and soldered, an unearthly glow reflecting onto his face and bouncing across the dark surfaces of the room. As the sky outside darkened even further, he held up two ends of cable in his hands, live and brimming with electricity. As he held the ends up to the SIR, lightening currents coursed through the whole of the base, so much so that it sent GIR screaming delightedly down to have a look, but Zim shooed the robot back upstairs before he could interfere.

Finally, in the dead of night, Zim's work was done.

"IT'S…ALIVE!!" came the exclamation from Zim's house.

A neighbour, who in the middle of the night just _happened_ to be randomly reading his paper out in the yard, looked over towards the sound. He stared in the direction of Zim's house.

"Darn alien kid," he muttered, and went back to his paper.

Back inside Zim's Lab, the newly-fixed SIR unit stirred, its eyes flashing from an empty black to solid red.

"Systems fully functional!" it stated, springing to its feet – and, noticing Zim, leapt down from the work-surface and saluted.

"ZIR, reporting for duty," the unit told him stoutly.

"IT'S PERFECT!" Zim declared with a scream. Then, he stopped, looking quizzically at the new SIR unit. "'ZIR'…? What does the 'Z' stand for?"

"I don't know…" the unit said. Its tone was lowered darkly…almost meaningfully…

However Zim was oblivious. "Yes, yes," he said waving a hand carelessly, no longer interested, "I thought you'd say something like that…Now" The Invader's eyes gleamed, "To business. I'd like to test your skills as a new evil henchman, preferably on the Dib human…but that may have to wait until tomorrow. The amount of power I had to use to repair you means that my whole base now needs time to recharge, so I'm deactivating you until the morning."

So saying Zim moved over to the robot, removing the lid on its head and flicking a switch. The red glow from the SIR unit's eyes dimmed and faded out, as the robot deactivated.

Zim left ZIR propped up against a workbench, as he went to the lift and resurfaced from the toilet up into the kitchen. GIR was still on the living room sofa, watching a late-night repeat of 'The scary Monkey show' and tucking into giant globs of pizza.

"Oh yeah…" GIR told his master though mouthfuls of pizza, as the Irken walked into the room, "Dib showed up earlier with a moosey camera."

Zim looked alarmed. "Dib?! – You didn't let him in, did you?"

GIR waved a robotic hand carelessly, eyes now glued to the screen. "Nah. He wasn't very nice. The squirrel army chased him all away, just like the peanuts. I like peanuts!"

Zim raised an eye at this, but sat down next to the robot on the sofa, shrugging it off. No doubt GIR had meant the security gnomes had taken care of Dib – not a squirrel army. Although…having an army of squirrels wouldn't be a bad idea, come to think of it…He would have to remember that for future reference.

Meanwhile, back in the dark silence of Zim's underground Lab, a pair of robotic eyes flickered back into life…

Slowly, ZIR sat up, and with a turn of his head, his eyes became dark and lifeless once more. Only this time his eyes narrowed, becoming a glowing, shiny black, and his stitched up mouth grew into a twisted grin.

* * *

"AWWwww…Where did the monkey go?" moped GIR, as the last repeat of the scary monkey show ended, and was replaced with an early morning programme. The robot looked blankly at the screen for a moment, as if expecting the monkey to appear again at any second. "Monkey!" he shrieked at the screen – not realising that the people on the screen could not hear his demands.

Zim, having nothing better to do, had ended up watching the TV with him the whole night – and after having the defective SIR unit giggling at the screen for no apparent reason every few minutes, was glad to find it was morning at last. Stretching his aching limbs, he slipped off the sofa and headed off back into the depths of his base.

Activating the lights in the lab, he walked over to the deactivated unit he had left there last night. He stopped for a moment, appearing to frown.

"That's strange," he commented to himself, discovering the lifeless robot right next to the computer, "I don't remember leaving you there…" He scratched his head for a moment – before seeming to dismiss the thought entirely. "Oh well," he shrugged carelessly, reaching over to reactivate ZIR.

The robot's eyes flashed onto red, and it leapt to its feet. "ZIR, reporting for duty, Sir!" the unit declared, its reactions a lot quicker than the previous night.

"Excellent!" said Zim, pleased with his new mechanical minion. "Now," he declared importantly, pacing up and down in front of the SIR unit, "I am going to assign you with your first mission. Your first mission will be to…uh…" he glanced around him for inspiration. "…Eh…hmmm…"

Whilst his attention was averted, ZIR did a quick analysis scan of his surroundings…and of Zim. But something else caught the attention of both the SIR unit and Irken before either could progress any further.

"Whoooheee-hoo! Chicken time!" from a chute in the wall, another SIR unit shot out suddenly, eyes bright blue as it proceeded to dance around the room, making realistic clucking noises.

"GIR," Zim demanded, irritated, "Who said you could come down here yet? Go back upstairs and…watch some more human broadcasts or something...just get out of my way."

GIR looked up, pausing in mid dance. His eyes slowly flashed red as he saluted, and with that the robot shot back upstairs, apparently bursting into tears with disappointment.

ZIR, the other unit, watched him leave. "GIRRR…" the new unit repeated suddenly, his voice lowered darkly. ZIR's robotic face seemed to change. His eyes twitched slightly, and flashed onto black.

"Huh?" asked Zim quizzically, snapping his head back around. But as the Irken turned back to look at the SIR unit, its eyes flickered quickly back onto red in an instant.

"A temporary glitch in my system, Sir," the robot told Zim. "Glitch is now fixed and will be dismissed."

Zim gave a slight nod, clearly having already dismissed it. "Hmm. Now…as I was saying, your mission…"

He turned to the computer. "Computer, run up a file on the Dib."

_**If I must**__,_ said the computer jadedly, as Irken symbols and a picture of Dib flashed up on the screen.

The Irken Invader gestured melodramatically towards the computer display. "Behold, ZIR, your first target! But first, I want you to spy on his house for me and send back useful information on all you find there."

The unit saluted, unquestionably on full duty mode. "Yes Sir - I obey, Sir!" ZIR declared without delay.

Zim clasped and curled his fingers together, grinning to himself, as a new plan already began to formulate in his mind.

"Dib is always interfering in my plans and trying pitifully to spy on my base…let us see how he reacts when the tables are turned! Oh yes, Dib, you won't be expecting _this…_!"

Behind Zim, ZIR's twisted mouth grinned.

* * *


	4. The Horror Begins

_The Horror Begins…_

"Zim, this lesson began five minuets ago, sit down."

Zim marched through the door to class, whistling to himself. He was late, as usual. And, as usual, no one took any notice - apart from Dib, who stared at him accusingly from across the classroom.

"Class," continued Ms Bitters, "Today we shall be discussing the failures of our society and how you will one day inevitably contribute to it…"

Zim, who had sat down, was still smiling conceitedly to himself. Dib glared at him. "What's so funny, Zim? Got another plan to destroy the earth?" He pointed accusingly in the green boy's direction, making the rest of the class turn and stare. "You're up to something!"

In his human disguise of wig and contact lenses, the invader stared back at Dib innocently. "Me? Up to something? How dare you accuse Zim of such treachery against my fellow meat-smells! I would never hurt anyone."

The class turned back on Dib, staring at him reproachfully. Sighing, Dib turned away moodily towards the window. No one would ever believe him, would they?

Back across the classroom, Zim turned back to face the front, his grin broadening. From his seat he began to cackle quietly. "Mwaahahaha…hahahaha…!" Dib snapped his head round back to face him, and Zim immediately stopped, sitting bolt up right. "H'em," - he cleared his throat.

At this point, the phone on Ms Bitters' desk happened to ring. Ms Bitters growled, snatching up the receiver. "What d'you want?" she snapped down the line. She listened, occasionally hissing down the line from time to time. Quickly Ms Bitters slammed the phone back down, a trapdoor opening and engulfing it in flames. "Class, in recognition of national gluttony day, the school principle is allowing you to spend an extra hour over lunch."

The class cheered.

"However," Ms Bitters cut in like a knife, "It is not lunch break yet, so you will all turn your textbooks to page 672 – in SILENCE."

The class groaned, beginning to flick through their textbooks.

"But Ms Bitters," said Dib, putting up his hand and frowning. "There are only 671 pages in the textbook."

Ms Bitters hissed at him unpleasantly. "I said in silence, child!"

* * *

The mood on Planet Dirt had changed. There, amongst a crowd of Irken Janitors who had assembled, lay a sinister sight.

"Out of my way!" growled the Boss of the squad, shoving Irkens out of the way towards the scene. "For Irk sake, get out of the –" He paused midway through pushing another Irken away as his red eyes met the object in the centre of the crowd.

"No." The anger died in his throat, as it was replaced with a numb horror. "Hatch?"

There was blood on the ground – Irken blood. The body of Janitor Hatch lay there, spread-eagled in the mud. His body was lacerated from head to foot – even his Pak, which lay on the floor in tatters. The Pak had been ripped away mercilessly from the Irken's back – his only life support, taken from him and destroyed beyond repair.

The Irken boss stepped towards Hatch's body. Who had done this? _What_ had done this? None of the operating machinery on the planet could have done that to him…so what did?

Hatch had already answered that one for them. Around him lay discarded tools and SIR unit parts that he'd been in the process of fixing together. On one fragment, he had etched three initials into the metallic surface, which was now stained with his own blood.

The initials read: 'Z.I.R'.

The Janitorial Boss stared down at the letters. He recognised them.

He called over a highly-promoted member of his staff. "Set up a communications line with The Massive immediately! This is far more serious than we ever thought..."

* * *

"G…IRRR…" called a lowered robotic voice from the Kitchen.

GIR had been on the living room floor of Zim's house, humming to himself. He stuck his tongue out in concentration as he tried to make a smiley face out of Suck-monkey straws. However at the mention of his name, his blue eyes turned inquisitively towards the Kitchen. The lights had all gone out, and as the only other source of light came from the widows at the front of the house, the Kitchen was in almost complete shadow.

"Stay still, GIR…" came the voice again. The outline of a SIR unit stepped out from the shadows. Its eyes switched from duty-mode red to shiny black, and its twisted mouth grinned slowly. "Stay perfectly still, GIR, _perfectly_ _still_..."

As ZIR stepped closer, he drew out a set of knives from an invisible compartment in his side, holding them up against the dim light. They were stained with blood. GIR stared up at them blankly.

ZIR's grin only grew wider. "Time for you to be…decommissioned," the robot told GIR, his dark shiny eyes narrowing.

* * *


	5. FacePalm

_**Sorry for taking so long to update. I needed time to gather my thoughts and get some ideas together. But now I'm back! And full of goo. Mission goo… **_

_**Here's a scene coming up that will put a smile on your face :) …**_

* * *

_Face-Palm_

At 'Skool', lunch break had arrived. There was a huge cheer as the mass of students stampeded their way towards the cafeteria. It was true there was nothing the least bit exciting about having an extra hour of lunch - but anything was better than being stuck in a stuffy classroom.

Of course, this didn't apply to Zim, who saw both lessons and lunch break as a revolting kind of torture…

…_So why is he grinning so much_? Dib wondered. _He obviously has another plan in the works_. But Dib hadn't seen Zim look so pleased with himself since the time he'd slipped a thumbtack with Bologna DNA onto Dib's seat – which was worrying to say the least.

"Go on then," said Dib, slamming his tray of food down onto Zim's table. The contents of it 'sploshed' over the side. "Spill it. What's your plan, Zim?"

Zim turned away. "Plan? I don't know what you're talking about."

"Sure you do. You have that look on your face – the one that says 'I'm Zim, and I have a plan'!"

Zim shook a fist in the air dramatically, "And so what if I do have an INGENIOUS EVIL plan that's going to wipe out your ENTIRE filthy existence!?…I'm not telling you so that you can just spoil it again."

Dib opened his mouth to say something – then closed it again. Zim did have a point. Then he grinned too. "But you like to gloat, don't you?"

Zim stroked his chin, considering for a moment. "Well, yes that is true…hmm…But, no, I'm still not telling you. I want to see the stupid look of surprise on your face when you realise I've been spying on your house with a newly advanced SIR unit! Now, watch me point and laugh at you –" The green boy pointed at Dib, "HAHAHAHAHAHA!"

Dib raised an eyebrow. "You're…spying on my house?"

Zim stopped laughing, his eyes shifting from left to right. "Did I say that?"

"Er…yeah."

Zim pointed at Dib again. "YOU'RE LYING!" he screamed at Dib, picking up his own tray and marching away.

Dib looked stumped. "But…why would you spy on my house anyway?" he asked, as Zim walked away, "That's just…pointless!"

"Your voices are making me sick again," Gaz scowled, as she stormed her way past her brother to sit at the table vacated by Zim. "Both of you do me a favour and die in a corner somewhere…_quietly_."

Dib threw his arms up in surrender. Sometimes he didn't even know why he bothered.

Suddenly, there was a long high-pitched shriek coming from outside. GIR, out of his doggy disguise, was tearing across the playground towards the Cafeteria windows, his eyes blue and wide with fear. And he was screaming his head off.

"AHHHHHH! AHHHAHAHAHA! AAAHHHHAHAHAA, AHHHHH! AAAAAHHHHHH!!"

There was a smack and the sound of glass smashing, as GIR tore straight through the window, tumbling across the floor and crashing headlong into Zim.

Zim was aghast. "GIR – what are you doing here?! – and out of your disguise!" He caught the robot up by the neck. "- Are you insane?!" he hissed.

Suddenly he stopped, as the Irken noticed that all eyes in the room were on him and the robot held up in the air by his hands.

Zim quickly hid GIR behind his back. There was an awkward silence. Smiling weakly at the faces that were all staring at him, Zim quietly side-stepped away until he was outside the Cafeteria doors.

"SEE!" cried Dib triumphantly; pointing in the direction Zim and GIR had gone. "See, Zim IS an alien – you all saw that robot – just tell me it isn't true now!"

Everyone just looked at him, shaking their heads and turning away.

"You're crazy!" someone shouted at him.

Dib planted his hand against his face with a smack.

* * *


	6. The Sound of Mechanical Laughter

_The Sound of Mechanical Laughter_

Even along the corridor, GIR was still screaming.

"GIR! Stop with that horrible sound! What's got into you?"

Zim thwacked the robot on the head in an attempt to knock some sense into him. But GIR was still in hysterics, and after fighting his way away from Zim, the robot ran around in circles with a scream until he collided with a door that suddenly opened.

"Zim," Ms Bitters growled, her head slithering around from behind the door to the staffroom, "If you can't keep that irksome piece of machinery quiet, I will confiscate it immediately!"

Zim gasped in alarm, his eyes like saucers. Wrenching GIR away from the door, he ran along the corridor, dragging the robot with him. Glancing around him, he made a dash for the boy's bathroom, closing the door behind him and breathing heavily.

"Don't you see GIR? You're ruining our cover just by being here! – Ms Bitters mentioned Irk!" Zim bit down on his hands in his anxiety, "Do you realise the seriousness of the situation!?..._GIR_?"

Zim's defective SIR unit was still running about, smacking into things and shrieking. Zim tightened a shaking fist – but then stopped himself and simply shouted, "GIR! I order you to stop this madness and pay attention!"

At first, it didn't look like GIR was going to listen to his master's orders. However after smacking into yet another wall, the SIR unit's eyes flashed onto red as it saluted. Then, quickly returning to blue, GIR ran back towards Zim.

"Good. That's better. But what were you thinking coming here to the Skool? How many times have I told you not to come unless –"

"Master, I needed to get away!" GIR interjected, suddenly jumping onto Zim's chest and clinging tightly. Zim looked down at the robot, somewhat disgusted and taken aback.

"O-k then," said Zim, trying to brush the defective unit off him, "I think, GIR, you best be running off back home now."

The Irken Invader waved a hand away, gesturing that the robot should go, but GIR only responded by bursting into tears.

"Don't make me go back there! He's gonna be waiting for me, he's always waiting for me. I made him mad. He's gonna come after us now."

"GIR, what are you talking about?" Zim gave the robot a shake. GIR had never spoken so seriously about anything before – in fact, GIR rarely had a single serious thing to say. Was he having some sort of…double malfunction of something?

"The new SIR unit gone bad," GIR said, trembling.

Zim looked incredulous. "What? ZIR? Don't be so ridiculous. ZIR's on our side. And what is more he isn't at home, he can't be at home! I sent him to spy on Dib's house."

"Are you so sure about that?" a lowered robotic voice called.

Zim started, spinning around. GIR instantly squealed and dived headfirst into a nearby sink with a splash. But the room was empty.

ZIR's electronic voice cackled quietly, echoing around the pipes lined around the tiled walls.

Zim gritted his teeth. Forget what his insane robot minion said. ZIR was still _his_ SIR unit, and he wasn't going to have his orders disobeyed by it.

"ZIR," Zim shouted, stepping out into the middle of the floor, "Come out immediately! I thought I told you to spy on Dib's house? Do you dare disobey your own master, ZIM?!"

But ZIR's cackling only got louder, growing more manic by the second. Zim's eyes darted around the room, as the sound shifted from pipe-to-pipe, getting nearer and nearer…

"No authority hinders _my_ progress," ZIR's voice sliced through the air. "I take orders from no Irken Elite!"

For a moment Zim looked taken aback. Angry. "But -?!"

"But what, Zim?" mocked ZIR, "You thought I was assigned to you, to be an Irken robot _slave?_ To serve your every pointless whim and command?" There was a rumble through the room. Bits of tile and dirt began to crumble away and drop to the ground.

"I'm going to kill you," rasped ZIR's voice fiercely, "I'm going to SLIT that Pak away from your back, Zim…"

Zim's eyes went wide with terror, his arms moving towards his Pak to make sure it was still there.

"As for you, GIR…" came the lowered voice again, "Why did you run from me like that? Don't you want to play? You know, cowering behind your weak Irken master is not going to save you…"

The sink where GIR was hiding trembled violently, and the blue-eyed robot shot from the sink to cling onto Zim with fear.

"ZIR, cut this out immediately!" cried Zim irritably. "I am your master, now obey me!"

ZIR's manic laughter shot down towards Zim, echoing and bouncing of the walls of the room. The one light in the boy's bathroom began to flicker, as ZIR's dark cackling continued.

Zim and GIR both stared at the light uneasily, as it flickered on and off, on and off, getting steadily worse and more drawn-out until…

Darkness. The room was plunged into blackness, and Zim and GIR screamed.

Then the bathroom door slammed open, and Zim and GIR screamed again.

"Errr..." Said a puzzled Dib, standing against the light of the hall corridor, "It's just me."

Zim stopped screaming for a moment and peered at Dib from behind the shield of his hands. "-You're not a demented psycho SIR unit after my guts!?"

"No," replied Dib, "And – hold on a second – what SIR unit?" He peered into the swampy blackness of the room, but all he could see was GIR running about blindly in the dark and bumping into things.

Zim glanced behind him too, although far more cautiously than Dib. The echoing laughter in the pipes had stopped. Zim's teeth began to tremor, as his eyes darted about, paranoid.

For a moment he looked like he was about to run out of the room screaming – but then when he looked to the door he still saw Dib there. His terrified expression turned into an irritable scowl.

"It's none of your business, Earthfilth! Now get out of my way!" The Irken shoved Dib aside without waiting for a response, sending Dib tumbling to the floor with a cry of protest.

"Hey!" Dib called out indignantly from the floor, rubbing his arm that had taken the brunt of the fall. But Zim barely noticed, seeming intent only on getting away from the dark and foreboding bathroom as quick as possible.

"Come GIR," Zim commanded, his unit saluting and zooming to his side, "We need to get out of here." And with that the Irken proceeded to march hurriedly away down the corridor.

"Doo dee doo doo doo!" GIR sung happily, as he strolled along after Zim. The events of a few moments ago already forgotten.

* * *

Dib got to his feet, still rubbing him arm – not because it was still hurting, but because he was too irritated to realise it had stopped hurting a while ago. His eyes narrowed in the direction Zim had gone.

"What are you hiding, Zim?" Dib asked himself. He scrutinised the semi-darkness of the bathroom…but it was too dark to see anything clearly.

"Hmm…" thought Dib, "This might be a good time to test out that Super powered micro torch I ordered from Crop-circles magazine last week."

The eleven year-old fished about in his backpack for a moment, retrieving a small torch no bigger than the size of a pen lid. In a similar manner to clicking a retractable ballpoint pen, Dib clicked the end of the torch, and the device extended out like a truncheon, the light at the front switching onto full power. He smiled as the light extended out from the torch, flooding the whole place with so much light that it could easily compete with the original light-fittings.

"Let's see you trying to hide something when I've got this," Dib smirked, aiming the beam directly into the room.

But there was nothing to see, as Dib soon realised. Just a bit of dust and dirt, a crack in the ceiling and…

"Wait a second," Dib said slowly, walking closer to get a better look at it. Beside one of the cubicles…was that…?

Dib crouched down beside it, staring at it in disbelief. "No way."

* * *

* * *

_**What has Dib discovered?...You'll have to wait and find out…**_


End file.
